


nothing

by ellfie



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, mando thinks he wants her too but nope, virgin mando, xi'an is awful, xi'an wants what she wants and what she wants is mando
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:21:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21817327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellfie/pseuds/ellfie
Summary: He cared about her, once.
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Xi'an (Star Wars), din djarin/xi'an, dyn jarren/xi'an, the mandalorian/xi'an
Comments: 10
Kudos: 148





	nothing

**Author's Note:**

> I liked the concept of xi’an, and hated just about everything else about her. But i find it all still interesting so i decided to write this. I honestly thought it would turn out more sympathetic to Xi'an, I had something else in mind, and then this happened so. nope. still shitty. no beta we die like droids

He remembers it. Back when they all ran together, took jobs, stirred up trouble and left dozens of towns with destruction in their wake and blood on their hands.

He was young and stupid. Fresh. He felt like he could take on the world, own it if he wanted to, thrived off the awe from his comrades and the fear of his enemies. The Mandalorian was a force to be reckoned with, and every step he took was testament to that.

Ran calls them  _ the good ol’ days _ . Dyn looks back on them with an intense shame, only further disgusted as he reflects how much his life had turned around since the kid.  _ That code of yours turned you soft. _

He had shared his code with her, opened up a sliver of himself for her, thinking it would get her to understand why this was wrong, why what they were doing was  _ not the way _ and yet all she did was throw it back in his face. And now, years later, she did it again. Mocked his beliefs, saw how he tried to mimic the nearly forgotten tenderness of his parents, the acceptance of his new family, how he tried to emulate Omera’s soft motherly ways -- Xi’an saw it all as weakness.

When he was young and stupid, she enthralled him. A fierce female, strong and lithe and an attractive Twi’lek, sensual in her movements even as she stabbed and maimed. He thought, stupidly, she’d be a worthy partner, was happy to have her fighting at his side, how well she defended herself and how she would fling herself into fights without a care, teeth sharp as she grinned wildly with every expert toss of her knife.

Xi’an had always been attracted to him in turn, and she made it obvious. Winking, swaying her hips, playing with her lekku and letting soft, alluring hums fall from her blue lips as she held his gaze. Flirted so openly in a way he had never experienced, and it had thrilled him, even if he had no idea how to respond. His silence only seemed to spur her on, and she’d get bolder and bolder, dropped invitations to fuck her with no tact but full, brazen sexual courage that he admired. He loved it, the way she was so sure of who she was and what she wanted and eager to grab it with both hands, never hesitating with her knife or her desires. The Mandalorian was an expert on the field, but when it came to personal matters, of desires of the body, he was lost in a deep, cold sea.   
  
He adored experiencing it through her, the comfort in ones skin when he sometimes wondered if he even deserved to wear the helm of those who took him in.    
  
Then one day she’d had enough teasing.

“Mando!” She cried out, lips pulled back into a huge, feral grin, fresh blood splattered on her face. He was steadying his breathing, attention still half on the last downed man, their bodies still twitching in the alleyway when Xi’an was suddenly upon him. She leapt at him, and he awkwardly caught her, stumbling half a step and hands twitching to keep from instinctively throwing her or slitting her throat. She giggled wildly, her legs closing tight around his waist, and dragged her hands down his helm. His breath caught in his throat for more than fear of her taking it off.

“Xi’an, what--”

“ _ Mando _ ,” she moaned, settling her hands on his shoulders and rubbed up against him. He stopped breathing entirely. “That was  _ incredible _ . You took them down like it was  _ nothing. _ And you  _ saved _ me!” 

“O-Of course.”

“Come on, Mando, it’s just us, everyone else is dead,” her hands snuck up his neck, just beneath his helmet again and he felt hot and nervous and wild, hesitating. “Take your helmet off so I can kiss you.” She grabbed the bottom of his helmet and he finally snapped out of it, panic and tradition slamming firm in place over his base desire.

He grabbed her wrist -- hard. He knew she could take it, would like it, even. No point in being gentle. “No.”

“ _ Mandoooo _ ,” Xi’an whined and pouted, still trying to push his helmet up.

“ _ No _ , Xi’an,” he barked, low and panicked, a fire burning in his belly even as a clammy chill broke out over his skin at the prospect of being unmasked.

Fortunately, the Twi gave up with a huff and a  _ fine _ , and unhooked her legs to slide down his body. He let out a breath, which once again caught in his throat as her fingers instead snuck under his shirt, sliding to the front, searching for the front of his pants.

His heart pounded, body tensed, even as he could feel his penis hardening just at the prospect. “Xi’an -- what --”

“What does it  _ look _ like, Mando?” Xi’an laughed, shrill and high and unconcerned with the way his hands hovered as if to stop her, how part of him wanted to just as much as part of him wanted her to continue. He’d never done this. Hardly ever even pleasured himself. And even now, with this beautiful, fierce, undeniably sexy woman literally climbing him like a tree, he still felt like this wasn’t right. Just as her hands opened the top half of his pants and started sneaking lower, he finally caught her wrists again in an iron grip. She hissed, annoyed, then switched to a cooing, teasing pur. “Aww, Mando, are you shy? Maybe all that armor is compensation for something?”

His mouth was dry, and it was open to talk -- not that she could see -- but he couldn’t get any words out. So she just laughed again and pressed right up against him, squirming and slipping a thigh between his own, pressing it tight to his crotch, sending a fiery jolt through him. A groan escaped him and Xi’an giggled, delighted. “Ah, there it is! Big bad Mando… just as hotblooded as the rest of us.”   
  
“Xi’an…” it felt like the only thing he could say now, especially as she kept rocking against him, laughing at his soft grunts. Then she turned around, squirmed and wiggled until her rear was fitted into the curve of his hips, and that was even nicer, and his hands found her hips and yanked her against him without a thought. She laughed as he started rocking against her, moaned loud and lewd at the way he controlled her movement for some time until her hands started flitting up and down her front. She grabbed one of his hands and guided it to her suddenly open vest, pressing his palm over her -- 

_ Maker _ , he was cupping her breast. He could just barely make out the hard nub of her nipple through his gloves. She arched into his hand with a moan, and for too long a moment he had no idea what to do until he experimentally rubbed, earning another moan, and then carefully closed his fingers down against the mound and squeezed, prompting her to writhe against him and moan  _ Oh, Mando! _ again.

After some time of this and just rocking against her rear, feeling so far away from himself, feeling hot and wild and like he was eating some forbidden fruit which was steadily souring his stomach, Xi’an spun around and took half a step away. He could see most of her breasts hanging out of her vest and he couldn’t help but stare -- he’d never seen…

Then suddenly the length of her toned, blue legs was exposed, meeting together at her womanhood, yet another part he had never seen. And then she was on him, and his erection was in her hand, out of his pants. “Wait--”

“Aw, see? Nothing to be shy about.” She squeezed him and he  _ groaned _ because  _ Maker _ did that feel good. And then she was against him again, sliding up his body, hand on his shoulder and hoping up to wrap her legs around his waist again, still holding onto his erection and angling it up.

This was going too fast. He had no idea what was going on -- or well, he had a basic idea, but he -- was this allowed? What if it wasn’t? He needed to breathe, needed to think, because his body was at war with itself, feeling hot and cold all at once, desperate to stay right here and just as eager to flee. “Wait, Xi’an, I -- I don’t -- I’m not--”

But she was already sinking onto him and, and, oh  _ maker _ it did feel good, sinking into her heat, hearing her moan happily and squeeze down around him. He was still trying to make sense of that when she started moving, rocking her hips so his erection would rock out then in, and she swiveled her hips to hit something that made her moan more and he shuddered.

She rode him hard while his back was braced against the wall, his arm around her waist, his eyes shut more often than not as the sensation of her heat mercilessly overwhelmed him, but he was still hard, still aroused, She was grunting and groaning, gasping  _ oh oh oh! _ And  _ Mando! Oh, Mando!  _ And he didn’t know what to do, just let her chase her pleasure, gasping as his came first, without warning, spilling inside her and just spurring the Twi on more, the movements slick and lewd sounding. She kept on him even as he began to wince, but then her hot walls fluttered in close and she gasped, back arched, flushed purple breasts practically rubbing against his visor. 

What… had just happened? Was this against the code? His face wasn’t exposed, but  _ he _ had still been exposed… What did this mean now? Did this change anything? Would Xi’an crawl into his cot tonight with the expectation to do it again?

Despite the fact that she was fierce and attractive and talented and courageous… the thought made him uncomfortable.

She laughed and patted his chest, the sound hard against his durasteal, and he blinked and found she had already righted her clothes completely. His own flaccid member still hung from his pants, and he quickly tucked it back in, righting himself, feeling horribly exposed under her gaze and laugh. “Aw, no need to be shy anymore, luv, and that was nothing to be shy about either.”

She draped herself over him and he found himself leaning back, helmet clinking softly against the wall. She stroked his chest, kissed the would be cheek of his helmet. “That was fun. Let’s do it again sometime.” She gave his cuirass another pat then sauntered off, walking and hopping over the bodies like they were twigs.

He watched her go, and now that the heat in his belly was gone, the nausea made itself clear. His skin prickled uncomfortably, and he double checked all his armor was his place, still not feeling secure even when he confirmed he was covered head to toe.

Xi’an was fierce and attractive and talented and courageous… but he did not want to do that again.

Not long after that, he had left the gang entirely. It was the one choice involving them that he never regretted.

Seeing Xi’an again, working with her, being the brunt of her anger and supposed heartbreak… he still doesn’t regret it. He sees her and feels nothing, except reassurance that he made the right choice to leave.

.x.


End file.
